„Mum, I can explain." Blaine ducked when a vase crashed into the wall right where his head had been. "Mum, please. I didn´t choose to be gay. This is not what I wanted for myself, it simply is. Homosexuality is proven to be something people are just born with, as it is determined in the uterus."

"So this is my fault?" she screeched.

Right in that instant he knew he had chosen the exact wrong words to try and reason with her. Another object flew through the air, hitting his chest, before it landed on the floor with a clatter. He was lucky it was just a pen, since all the heavy and breakable things already gathered behind him in shards and pieces after having missed their actual aim.
"No. This is not your fault. It is just some kind of enzyme humans have and-"
"My enzymes have nothing to do with me having a faggot son. You choose this by yourself. You did not want this? Then stop!"

She looked like a lunatic, her nostrils flaring while her hands were searching for new things to throw only to come up empty. She breathed in heavily, turning around and around like she was in a roundabout, until suddenly it seemed as if all the energy left her body. Just like that his mother seemed to deflate when she sunk down on the chair by the table.

Blaine´s rigid pose loosened the instant he heard the first sob. The adrenaline still pumped through his body, making his heart beat rapidly and his breathing faster and him much more aware of his surroundings. For the first few minutes he just stood there, looking at the slumped form of his mother that had gone from attempting to kill him, to a crying mess. He had half of a mind to just go, get out of there before his father came, but seeing her like that, like the mother he knew she could be, he found himself unable to.

With careful places steps he made his way over to her while avoiding to walk on any shards. When he stood beside her he wanted to touch her, to show he was there and still the same as he were just minutes ago, but he knew better. His hands hovered over her shoulder instead, not feeling the warmth of her skin; only the coldness of their home and it fit tremendously in that situation.

"Mum?" He tried between her sobs. "Please don´t cry. I...I am still your son and the same person I was yesterday. If you want I won´t ever bring my boyfriend home. You won´t even notice that I am different."

She then whipped around so quickly that he barely had time to flinch and to try and pull away the arm she now had in a vice-like grip. Her sharp nails dug into his skin the more he fought against her.

"Home?" she chuckled without any trace of humor in her voice. "What home? You think I would let a faggot live under my roof? What would our neighbors say? They would think I have raised you to be a homo, that it was my fault. It was not my fault. You have chosen to shame our family."
"No. Mum, please-"
"You have made your bed, now lie in it."

When she let go, Blaine saw the red crescent dents her nails had left behind and he stumbled back until his back hit the wall. His mother stood up, towering over him. A blur through the curtain of his tears, but he still could make out her angry eyes.

"You are no longer my son and don´t tell anyone otherwise. No Anderson will ever admit any relationship to you when I tell them what a disgrace you are."

The sharp pain in his cheek set in before he fully grasped that he had been slapped by her. That only caused the tears to flow faster, stinging his warm skin. He cradled his cheek and only dared to look at her when he heard her gasp. As soon as he did, hope lit up inside of him, because what he saw was the mother he had thought was lost for good. But there she stood, looking at the hand that had hit him as if it was the first time she saw it and could not understand its use.

"It´s okay, Mum. Something like that can happen." He hurried to say.

Very slowly she raised her head to look at him and her shocked expression changed into one of hate again, successfully draining the little hope that had dared to bloom inside of him.

"Stop crying like a girl. Go up, pack everything you are able to in fifteen minutes and then I want you gone."

Blaine tried to grab her and beg her to take back those words, but she backed off as if he had a contagious illness she wanted to avoid getting. That was the moment he knew it was over. The evening that had started with one simple dinner where he had finally taken all his courage to say the words he always wanted to say, now came to a sudden end with him being forced to leave.
In all the scenarios that he thought of as a possible outcome to this day, this was not one of them. Screaming, crying, disappointment or even nonchalance, but never this.

Without another try at convincing her that him being gay didn't change anything, he went upstairs to pack his bags. He was in no mindset to grab anything of importance, just a lot of warm clothes, his wallet, all of the money he found lying around and his ´Teddyduck´. When not even half of his bag was full, he heard his mother enter the room. He chose to ignore her, stuffing the bag with things, which he randomly found in his cupboard. The butterfly knife David had insisted he needed in case anyone dared to lay a finger on him like they had the night of Sadie Hawkins dance, a bag with his camping equipment, a group picture of the Warblers, his gel, the cigarettes he was supposed to hide for Nick and a single bowtie for no apparent reason. From time to time he heard her mutter something that he did not want to pay attention to. She needed to repeat his name three times before he finally gave in and looked at her.

"Blaine! You do realize that you should be grateful I let you leave before your father hears those horrible news, right? And I have to admit that hitting you was really unlady like of me."
"Does that mean you are sorry?" Blaine asked, his voice as monotonous as he could manage to make it. His mother only shrugged.

"Not exactly."

He nodded hoisting up both bags, but when he wanted to go she stood in the doorway, obstructing his passage. In her one hand she had a stash of money, in the other she held a paper she´d obviously scribbled something on in a hurry. He raised his eyebrow, suddenly too tired to do anything.

"This is all the money we have in the house. Not much but it will probably get you to your Antonio or Rafael, or whoever you sin with." She explained.

Instead of extending her hand to give it to him, she held the paper a little too close to his face and continued speaking. "You only need to sign this paper."

"What is it?"

His mother sighed as if it was tedious to talk to him any longer than necessary. "With that you promise to never return home and never call yourself an Anderson any longer."

"Are you for real?" He gasped, looking at the messy handwriting of his mother. "Even if I signed that, it wouldn´t be of much use. It is not a contract that would have any consequences by the state when I would break my promise."

She rolled his eyes. "No, but it would give your father some closure. Or do you want him to chase you across the country until he gets the chance to beat some sense into you?"

For a second he thought she was joking, but he slowly realized that she was serious. Blaine huffed, feeling the already dried tears on his cheeks as he shoved her a little to get through the door and out. The feeling of sadness had long left his body to make place for the initial anger he thought he should have felt from the beginning onwards.

"Fine! Fine, but don´t come crawling back when you need money. This was a one time opportunity. Now get out of here. This is no longer your home."

Before he left, he turned around one last time, looking at the damage she had done today to the house she otherwise kept spot on clean. Every room had white walls, no pictures apart from the ones of his Dad with business partners or Blaine with a trophy in his hands. His mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, regarding him with her arms crossed and the paper crumbled in her fingers. The state of the house was much like her appearance now. She always wore long dresses, the ones that did not make her appear slutty, but made her look sexy at the same time. Her hair was always in a bun, but most of the black strands hung loose right now and her make- up ran down her cheeks in dark rivers.

"Was it ever a home?" He asked, before leaving her and the house behind.

There had never been a swing in their garden, never been much of his toys in his room, so he did not leave his childhood behind. There were no band posters on his wall, no porn magazines hidden and no video games in his room, so he did not leave his adolescence behind.

No, all that he saw when he looked through the windshield of his car was exactly what his eyes could grasp. A house, not a home. Not ever again.

Over a month had passed when the gel was the first thing Blaine ran out of. That was what made him decide to give himself a haircut. With nothing more than the knife of David and his rearview mirror, he started to cut a curling lock after lock until his hair was short enough for his liking. It looked decent and he was glad he had spent half of his childhood cutting the hair of his best friends Barbies and sometimes even his own hair with dull scissors. When he was finished he tried to sweep the cut hair out of his car, before he could do what he had come to do every day since he decided to run away.

That was what he told whoever asked at least. He had always been the pride and joy of his family, the one his dad could show off at business meetings, and the one they kept the trophies of on desplay in the living room for everyone to see. Who would ever believe that his mother, Amelia Anderson, the nice housewife from next door, had thrown him out to fend for himself?

No, runaway sounded better. Like he had made the active choice of leaving when they were ´not happy´ with his sexuality, as he tended to put it.

It was in the cold fall nights he spent in the tent or in his car when the truth crept out to haunt his mind. Or whenever he looked into his wallet to spot less and less money he could live off and he´d get angry at himself for not taking the money he´d been offered.

Sometimes he contemplated driving back to Westerville and beg his friends for a place to stay. Especially when the rains poured down the tent in ribbons and his teeth clattered despite layer upon layer he wore to protect himself from the cold wind.

Today was a good day though. At least as good as his life could be as a ´runaway´. The sun shone down on him through the open car door where he had parked next to the cornfield he had slept in last night. When it got too hot he took a tentative sip from his water bottle. His legs were propped up against the steering wheel and he looked down at the dashboard that had started to collect dust, doing nothing but thinking.

On days like these he tried to occupy himself with as many reasons as he could come up with on why it was a terrible idea to move to his friends. For now he had come up with the following ones:

- Apart from Wes and David, you are not good enough friends with anyone to burden them with your presence

- Most of those friends even reside at Dalton and it would be much to generous for their parents to just take you in when their son isn´t present

- Wes parents are much to traditional to accept a homosexual living in their house for a longer period

- David´s family could barely afford Dalton tuition, how could they take you in as well?

But foremost there was this one reason that overshadowed them all. It was also the reason why he couldn´t use the credit card his father had given him once:

- Your father will find you.

And he couldn´t let that happen. While it was true that he was his father´s favorite son, that would all be in the past as soon as word got out that his son was one of those faggots he always joked and ranted about.

His father had always been a nice man in front of his colleagues, as he was at home. But Blaine knew that he could turn vicious when anything did not go according to his plan. For example the time when Blaine had not made it first place in sprint and instead only came in third. That evening his father, the man who always laughed and took his time to play with him despite his work load, had taken his belt and snapped it, once, then twice. Not on naked skin and not very hard, but it was enough to ensure that Blaine did anything he could to come in first the next time. And he did. He always did what he could to make his father proud, but when he failed it did not only hurt his own pride, but his body as well.

There was no way he could bear the punishment for being gay, so he had to make sure never to see his father again. He had been so naïve in believing his mother would be on his side and soothe her husband when he´d hear the news. He had seriously thought they could be one, big, slightly pretentious but mostly happy family when he let go of the burden of his biggest secret.

Blaine laughed loudly, causing a crow to fly away from the field in panic. He had been such a pathetic little boy. Only a month had passed and it felt like years to him with days stretching like the endless horizon. Years that made him grow up and realize his mistakes. There were times, like that moment right now, where he did not feel like Blaine anymore. Blaine Anderson had always been so dapper and peculiar about his presence and meek little details. He snorted when he understood that of course he wasn´t Blaine Anderson anymore.

No one was allowed to be called Anderson and be a faggot at the same time.

He spent most of the afternoon in the car, letting the little heat of the sun warm his body, as if he could charge it for the icy night that was to come. From time to time he checked his surroundings for possible thieves or farmers that could be bothered by his presence, but no one came. When the sun was about to set, he took what little water was left in the bottle to wet his cheeks, before grabbing a razor. He now was used to shaving like that, but he only did it when he was about to drive into the next best city to buy necessary groceries.

Blaine wouldn´t admit it, but his appearance was still important to him, even if it shouldn´t be. He was practically homeless and in a month or two he would probably be grateful for hair that would slightly keep parts of his face shielded from the cold weather.

As always he parked as close to the city as he could afterwards, before getting out to walk the rest of the way to the next grocery store in order to save some gas. Wherever he was, it was not a big city. The houses were small, a lot of grandmas looked out of the window to spy on the stranger that walked their streets and only very few people passed him by. On the one hand Blaine was happy with that, because that meant he did not have to walk much to find a a cheap shop, but on the other hand it meant more people who would recognize a stranger like him if anyone asked for him.

For now he tried not to think about the possibility that his father would ever look for him just to give him the beating of his life, instead he focused on what he would need for the next week and how much he could spend on it. Not much, his mind provided him.

The first shop he spotted was as small from the inside as it had seemed from the outside. When he entered the door chimed to announce his entry and cause the few people who occupied the shop to turn around and look at him. From where he stood he could easily see through the whole shop. In the left hand corner, at the back of the shop stood an elderly lady with tomatoes in her hands, who regarded him warily. It caused him to look down, taking in his clothes, trying to figure out what was wrong with them. He wore a knitted Dalton sweater under his blue rain jacket that covered the distinguishable ´D´ of the uniform and khaki pants. He looked decent, but the woman gazed at him as if he was about to mug her. Then her eyes flickered over to another occupant of the shop, causing Blaine to follow her lead.

There, over at the beverage section, stood a man who looked Blaine´s age. His pale hands were buried in a the pockets of a worn leather jacket and he seemed to notice him looking, because he turned around. He was close enough for Blaine to see the blue of his eyes and after the first shyness passed that had caused him to quickly look away, he returned his gaze only to find the man still looking back. He was beautiful, there was no doubt. His brown hair looked like it could use a shower, and the dark circles under his eyes were not flattering, but he was overall still beautiful. His red lips rose at the corners to give Blaine a smile, before he strode over. Whenever he took a step with his left leg, the hole over his shin in the tight jeans gaped wide open as if the swallow some air.

Blaine did not even realize that he still stood in the doorway of the shop, or the woman who shook her head at them. He was just thrust back into reality when a hand landed on his chest.

"Like what you see?" The man asked, his mouth close enough for Blaine to smell the cinnamon of his bubblegum. From up close he seemed even more mature but somehow Blaine doubted he was older than seventeen.

"Uhm..." Blaine stammered. "I´m Blaine."

The last time he had flirted with someone was months ago and it seemed like a whole new world when he was the one being flirted with.

"Nice name. Fitting for someone as smoking as you."

"Thanks?"

The man grinned. "How about you take me home and I show you how great I think you look?"

He came closer, pressing his body against Blaine´s. While the jacket had made him appear buff, up close he could feel the man´s bones protrude through the fabric. That did not lessen the effect he had though, especially when he felt warm breath against the sensitive skin of his ear.
"By worshipping every inch of your body."

Blaine gulped, closing his eyes and allowing himself his fantasy for a few seconds before backing off. The man had a sultry look on his face that lasted until Blaine opened his mouth, to then turn sour.

"No. Sorry. I can´t." He forced out the words.

"You can´t?" He was asked."Erectile dysfunction or closet case? Both are very treatable by me. I´ll make it worth your time."

Humiliated by his words, Blaine just walked past the man, bumping his shoulder in the process. He was not only angry at him, but primarily at himself. Because as Blaine Anderson, he´d have rejected the offer because he would never allow any stranger to be intimate with him without any feelings involved and not before months of getting to know each other. Now, Blaine refused because he had nothing to offer, just a car and a tent at most. Nothing befitting for a beautiful man like him. Even though he still wasn´t sure if he wanted to have sex with anyone he didn´t love, but he couldn´t think that way any longer. That was Anderson attitude and he was no longer one.

The man did not say any more to him and both would only glance at each other when they knew the other wouldn´t look, before continuing their grocery shopping. Meanwhile Blaine tried to concentrate on the task at hand and he had an inner fight with his stomach that wanted to have anything Blaine´s eye saw, despite of the prize. It was almost as if it was disappointed at another week of water and bread with spread and some crackers. At last he decided to try to heat some canned soup with his camping cooker and grabbed some mouthwash, when he heard the commotion and looked up.

It was the man who had flirted with him that was now the one who was grabbed by his collar so viciously that he was almost pulled over the counter by the cashier. Instinctively Blaine got closer and listened to them scream at each other.

"Oh my." He heard the elder woman say, the moment their voices got louder. He watched her let go of the radish that hit the floor with a ´oomph´, before turning back around. By then the man had managed to free himself, but the cashier still held onto a bit of his jacket. From his angle, Blaine could see the corner of a packing protrude from under a blue shirt that was obviously meant to be hidden.

"Give it back you fucking thief. I know you have it hidden somewhere." The cashier was beet red by then, continuing to scream those exact words, while the man struggled for freedom.
"I didn't take anything. Why would I buy some things and steal others? Let go of me!"
"Empty your pockets. I wanna see everything you thief!"

"No!"

Once again the man was pulled halfway over the counter by meaty hands when suddenly Blaine jumped to life after feeling like watching a reality show instead of his own life. Without a plan he went up the counter and freed the man from the cashier´s grasp with one hand, before quickly grabbing the stolen good and placing it into his own basket that he shielded with his own body. The cashier did not seem to notice, his strained eyes still locked on the thief.

Blue eyes met Blaine´s, trying to understand what had happened, before he regained his stoic composure. The cashier now started to push his anger onto the next best person, who happened to be Blaine.

"What do you want? Do you two work together or something?"

Blaine took a deep breath and hoped his acting skills were enough to pull both of them through. "Actually, no. We don´t work together, we are an item. So I´d appreciate it if you would not harm my boyfriend."

"I can do whatever I want when I suspect I am being stolen from." The cashier spit. As if agreeing with him, Blaine nodded and looked at the thief.

"Honey, we don´t have anything to hide. Just empty your pockets and we can get out of here."

The man looked at him as if he had just revealed his identity as an alien and Blaine feared that his plan would go down as the most embarrassing attempt that it really was. Just then the man complied, shedding his jacket and then emptying his jeans pockets. Two pair of eyes looked skeptically at what was revealed on the counter.

Two condoms, car keys, opened packages of bubblegum, a small bottle of shampoo, and an orange pill bottle that promised deep and instant sleep for whoever took it on its etiquette, as well as a small taser.

"The shampoo bottle?"

"Not from here." The thief was quick to answer, only receiving a grunt in return.

There was no apology, just a reluctant nod and silence while he scanned Blaine´s grocery and took the cash from him. The doorbell chimed again when they left the shop hand in hand, something that the stranger had done and Blaine could not pull back after his act.

"Don´t come back!" they heard him yell before the door fell shut.

Not letting go of each other's hands, they walked around the corner before both letting out a huge sigh.

"Wouldn´t dream of coming back, asshole." The man yelled back.

Blaine only noticed how warm the strangers hand was when it was pulled away. It possibly was the kick of adrenaline that made him giddy then, but he didn´t care when he started to laugh. He didn´t even know when the last time was he had a reason to laugh, as well as he couldn´t know when the next time would be. So he ignored the confused gaze of the man and laughed until he had to bend over, holding his stomach when it started to hurt.

"It is not that funny."

"Yes, yes it is. You should have seen your face when he pulled you over the counter. I thought his head would explode any moment."

He only received a small smile for that, but it was enough to add to the stranger´s beauty. Blaine still had to take in deep breaths when he finally settled down, grateful for the brick wall he could lean against as he calmed down.

"Whatever." Boots kicked at nonexistent pebbles, while the man who had been confident minutes ago locked his gaze with the floor."I guess I have to thank you. For the Twinkies and all-. And if, you know, you need anything, I would gladly comply."

It was in his nature to politely decline, but that was exactly why he did not. "Actually there is something you could do."
"Yeah?" The stranger came closer, this time not quite close enough to press their bodies together, but enough to make him gulp. Blaine may have misunderstood the offer, but he would not let himself be bothered by that.

"Yes. Let me stay at your place overnight. Not for- you know...uhm sex. Just a place to sleep, like your couch or something. I will be gone by morning and I will have my own food. I won´t bother you at all."

The man huffed, as if that was an atrocious thing to want. But the moment he looked up, Blaine saw vulnerability and understanding in his eyes. In that moment he knew they were both just teenagers, struggling with problems bigger than both of them could handle.

"You don´t even know my name."

"Then tell me." Blaine provided. A few seconds passed, that he spent waiting and hoping for some trust from the stranger. The man´s guarded pose loosened a bit, before he put in another bubblegum and spoke.

"Kurt."

Blaine beamed at what he thought was a fitting name for the stranger. No, not stranger.

Kurt.

"Well Kurt, I am Blaine and I am asking you very nicely for a place to stay tonight. I wouldn´t ask you if it wasn´t urgent."

"That is impossible." Kurt turned to walk away, causing Blaine to jump to attention and follow him. "Because I don´t have a place to stay either."

"What do you mean?" asked Blaine, startled. His mind provided him with the information; it was just not easy to understand.

"That means that you and I, we are both out here, utterly alone and with no place to go to. We both need to pay the price of being a runaway and it seems as if we cannot afford that."

When Kurt walked away this time, Blaine was determined to let him go. There was no use in sticking around with someone the same as him, maybe the man, the boy, really, would even drag him down. Possibly steal what little money Blaine had left to survive and then run away like he had apparently done once already. The new Blaine, just Blaine, should have let him walk away and should have spent no more thoughts on him.

But something, and he wasn´t sure if it was the small part of insanity every human contained, told him that he needed to follow him. They may have too small backs to carry the weight of their own problems, but who knew if they could hoist them together? He had to give it a try. What did he have to lose? Not what he called his life, that was for sure. Even if Kurt was not a permanent stay, the boy could provide some entertainment for a while and maybe they would be friends.

Blaine was tired of being alone.

"Kurt. Wait up!"